


Dark Rooms and Smooth Moves

by orphan_account



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Help I'm DaveKat and I can't get up, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-20
Updated: 2012-05-20
Packaged: 2017-11-05 16:45:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/408687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I??? I actually ended up writing this before the other DaveKat thing I posted a while back but for some reason I never posted it?</p>
<p>What is sense and how do I obtain it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dark Rooms and Smooth Moves

**Author's Note:**

> (Just so this isn't confusing at first; this is from Dave's point of view)

On occasion, the two of you would sit in the dark, hold each other in the nude, and not a single word would slip past either of your lips. 

You took advantage of these opportunities to examine him with your hands instead of your eyes. You would trace over every curve and line of his body. Your fingers would dip into every crevice he had. You’d feel and touch all over him, painting a map of his entire being inside of your head.

The map would stay tucked away until you needed to conjure it up for any reason. At times, new spots would be added to the map. Bumps and scrapes and even places that would make his breath hitch in his throat and his back arch would be noted.

It was rather satisfying to find these new spots. You were mentally circling the spots with a thick, black marker on this map of him that you had created. You could use these to your benefit. And you did, of course. You couldn’t even begin to explain about how pleased you were when you’d hit that one place that made him squirm. 

When he could hear you snicker under your breath, he’d blatantly break your silent vigil to give you a firm warning such as “Don’t you dare get any ideas, Strider” or something to that extent. Words like that would only broaden your smirk, and he knew this well.

It wasn’t as if you were the only guilty one here. He would touch you and most likely map you out in a similar fashion. You’re sure that the little shit was gathering your own special spots and storing them away in his “thinkpan”, too.

Sometimes, he’d wrap his cold hands behind your neck and the contact between warm and cool skin would send shivers down your spine. He would let out a little snort in satisfaction, but not without a swift flick to his cheek on your part. He would take his hands from your neck to cradle his face, blubbering about how much it hurt. You would comment that you didn’t even flick him that hard and take hold of his horns and pull him towards you.

This kind of thing usually ends with the two of you staring at the ceiling, desperately trying to catch your breath with eyes wide open in shock. You would both slowly turn your heads towards each other, despite the room being still completely drenched in darkness. 

“Did we just-” he’d pant.

You would simply nod and say “We just,” back to him.

“How are you so good?” he would manage to get out as he curled up against you.

“I was just about to ask you the same thing, babe.” you had said as you nuzzled your face into his dark hair.

And in the dark, both of your breathing patterns would fall into a quiet, calming rhythm as you fell asleep in each others arms.


End file.
